THE GREY ANGEL

1. You, who loved so strongly,
it was you I saw, white, under the mountain,
you gave me the yoking dreams,
you tore away the dawn from me.

How did it enchant me, this grey shape
spread timelessly as a frontier land?
on this mountain, this unlit domain,
this face inhumanly fair.

Take it up with a bridal embroidery,
with one thread white and firm,
this face that opens under a veil,
deep as the night, and a night's finger.

Yes, by the astounded gaze the shape takes you over:
from the shoulders fall off grief and laugh,
as the icy wind scatters and buries
the cherry blossom on a golden field.

2. You, you were always there,
you snowy voice, star of the grass.
Did you finally awake that tender sinner,
that heavenly shadow on a gray road as a nest.

Stand erect under that barrenness
with broad palms and entangled dreams.
Let the salty rock take you,
breathless is the wild incurable land.

Look back from the dream, rest where you are not,
you have never been longer than this silence.
A height awaits you, eternal and dormant,
a bridge awaits you, of wonderful pain.

And from the top whence you mirror into the water,
you see a green rock, limpid and soft.
There tinkle inside it, golden lights sail,
quiet worlds of unlike lives and flow.

You are that silken angel born out of rock,
with a slow armor of earthly bark.
An empty frame gapes at the brow like a pattern,
looking for its stone seal lost in the wild.

Then, the golden rock pounds like a hammer
the eternal forehead, takes away its voice.
And dreams ascend like a naked forest
the mild wings of the gray form.

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